A Cheerful View of the Future.
Some people are very curious about the future. They want to know what is to be, and hence, they consult fortune-tellers, and believe in notable signs, dreams, lucky days, and kindred vagaries. They are the descendants of the ancient astrologers and necromancers. They may be quite happy in the superstitious view which they take of time to come, but their happiness does not arise from proper ideas of life. There is a class, however, who seldom look forward with any degree of satisfaction. They are almost sure to behold portentous evils. They may not trust in dreams, or consult in fortune-tellers, but imaginary evils exert a wonderful influence over them. There is always some bitter experience in reserve for them. They see it as a reality. At home some ill is yet to befall themselves or families—they will be sick, or poor, or experience some other unknown something that is grievous. Abroad, the cars will meet with some serious accident, or the steamboat sink or burn. And when a painful experience actually comes, they say, "It is just what I have been expecting for a long time. My mind was made up." They really appear to derive a kind of satisfaction from sad events when they are nothing more than they had long anticipated. Even some professing Christians are found among this class. Forgetting the Divine injunction, "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," they create imaginary troubles, that darken their minds and sadden their hearts. Though professing to believe that God governs the world in infinite love and wisdom, they behave as if all things were subject to blind chance alone. Contentment! that sweet, angelic grace, that converts the human heart as by magic, into a paradise of peace, so that even great clouds of darkness become light, and arrows of pain are sharpened with love—they scarcely know or care what it means. They never were content like Paul, and they never expect to be. That apostolic character presents a singular contrast with themselves, and perhaps they view it with a kind of distrust; thinking after all, that it is one thing to preach and another to practice contentment. At any rate, if their conduct is not strange for professing Christians, then Paul must have been an odd man, content as he was with even stripes and imprisonments. Trial after trial came to him, day after day, until it seemed as if the Future had nothing in store for him, and yet he was content—a cheerful happy man. There are some followers of Christ now who resemble Paul. They are content because they "commit their ways to the Lord." They have faith, and therefore they never yield to despondency, by creating imaginary evils. They have made up their minds to take things just as God sends them, so that thay have no reason to imagine evil. They leave trouble to the Lord's disposal, well satisfied that "All things work together for good to them that love him." They feel that he has governed the world very well in the Past, and have confidence that he will in the Future; therefore as they look forward, cheerfulness comes into their hearts, as an angel of peace. "Whose trusteth in the Lord shall be safe;" they know it from happy experience, they feel it clear down in their hearts. The skeptic may press them with arguments which they cannot answer, but it does not shake them from this strong hold. They have tried the promise, and found it true in letter and spirit, and ten thousand skeptics cannot darken their minds at this point. They are very much like the simple, good woman, who "didn't know what anybody wanted of a God if it wasn't to trust in." So they trust in him, and look forward with a glad heart. A cheerful view of the future is alone consistent with a true Christian life. "What," says one, "do you mean that the widow, in her abode of want and wo, with a brood of little ones to care for, should take this cheerful view? May she not be excused, though a Christian, in cherishing some doubts about the future? No doubt some sad thoughts will obtrude themselves upon her mind, but if true faith in God triumphs over her adversity, she will love to anticipate to-morrow, and next week, and next year, just because he who doeth all things well, will be there to rule. Her heart rejoices in the view, and if she be poor, with many dependent ones around her, it is about all the cheerful view she can have in this dark world. So that we say, yes; the poor widow, however hard her lot, must trust in the widow's God, and be very thankful and happy, too, that there is a widow's God for her. What else can she do? Will she be any better or happier, have any more bread for hungry mouths, or grope in lesser darkness by foreboding evil? Certainly not. Then wisdom, not to say Christianity, bids her take this cheerful view of time to come. And the same is true of every probationer, though nothing but clouds and storm meet his anxious gaze. The believer can but see that such a view of the future, alone, is honorable to God. He is the sovereign Ruler and disposer of events. All things are ordered by him. He doth his pleasure in the armies of Heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth. His wisdom and goodness are concerned in whatsoever come to pass. Not a sparrow falls to the ground without his notice. Even the very hairs of our head are all numbered by him. He "careth" for us. This is the believer's creed. Can he forbode evil, and live in sadness, because he beholds no light in his path, without dishonoring God? Whether designed or not, his doubts and forebodings imply that God will order or allow something that will not be for the best—that all things will not work together for good to the faithful. Here is the sin of distrust. The saints should ever keep in view that sublime and cheering truth—"Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day and forever." However sad the vicissitudes of his life, or frowning the future, there is one direction in which he may turn, and behold no change. While earthly thrones and governments may be overthrown by the revolutions of time or the assaults of contending armies, the throne and reign of his Master and King are eternal. Revolutions will not jostle it; time will not remove its foundations; it will stand from everlasting to everlasting. His fellow-men may be "unstable as water," blown about by every wind of doctrine, betraying his confidence as often as it is reposed in them, and causing him to feel that human nature is a cheat and a lie. But the Master whom he serves is the same through every age. His word is sure as law, his promise certain as destiny, his character changeless as his throne—"The same yesterday, to-day and forever!" How satisfactory, to contemplate the unwavering career of even mortal man! one who is never moved from right by the wiles and treacheries, the allurements and threats of a wicked world; who pursues the even tenor of his way, turning neither to the right hand nor left, true to himself, his race and his God! He stands a pillar of strength amid the shifting, changing crowds of humanity around him. He inspires confidence and hope in desponding breasts, and clusters thousands of hopeful hearts around himself. And then how sadly disappointed when relentless death strikes him to the dust! Yet the fatal blow may fall at any moment, and this pillar of society be toppled down. Think, then, of Him who is "the same yesterday, to-day and forever." Come joy or sorrow, health or sickness, life or death, He is the same, ever-present, ever-living, ever-faithful Friend and Ruler. Love once bestowed upon him is never disappointed by a blow from the Destroyer. Faith once reposed in him is never cheated by fitful purposes. This is abundant cause for looking cheerfully into the future. "The Lord is my strength, I will not fear though the earth be removed, and the mountains be cast into the midst of the sea."—Happy Home.